Pyro's Ultimate Mission
by Emmanator in Pen
Summary: Pyro moves in with the Brotherhood and quickly decides to try and win the affections of a "lovely lady". Of course, when your only romantic rival is Toad, victory is guaranteed. Jonda, Lancitty, Tabietro, Romy, and more.
1. Chapter 1

A ridiculously fun story of St. John "Pyro" Allerdyce joining the Brotherhood after Apocalypse is defeated and Gambit and Colossus join the X-Men.

John/Wanda, Lance/Kitty, Pietro/Tabitha, and random other things.

* * *

Pyro's Ultimate Mission

Chapter 1: Moving In

* * *

The Brotherhood house was clean beyond recognition since Mystique's return. She had demanded they scrub the house from ceiling to floor, she had repaired the Todd and Pietro shaped holes in the wall, and put food back in the kitchen. She had even demanded they take Todd outside and spray him down with the hose, it wasn't a whole lot of improvement, but she had convinced him to take two showers a month instead of just one on the threat of death.

Though Mystique was strict and frankly, really mean, it was better with her around, they thought. They always had food, and money, and there were nights when Mystique wasn't even home at all.

But one day, someone came to the house.

He didn't knock, he just pranced in, dropped his bags in the doorway and looked around.

"Oi!" he called. "Where can I put my stuff?"

"…Pyro?" Pietro said, raising an eyebrow at the redhead.

"Yeah. I'm moving in."

"Says who?" Mystique said as she finally approached the door.

"Me, myself, and I," he replied with a smile at Mystique. "Remy and Piotr joined up with the X-men and I didn't fit in down that-a-way so I decided to come here."

"Fine. There's an empty bedroom up the stairs, second room on the right," Mystique said, rolling her eyes. "I'm leaving for the day, if I come back and the house is in ruins, it's on your head," she said, pointing at Pyro.

With the Acolytes, Pyro had grown accustomed to getting the blame for house-hold related accidents, as he was the youngest and smallest, and thus easiest bullied. Here, he was the oldest, but still smaller than everyone except…Toad.

He frowned, but took his things up to the room that Mystique had indicated. He threw the bags down and hurried down the stairs.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked cheerfully.

"What is _he _doing here?" Wanda sneered, looking up from her breakfast.

"I live here now, Sheila!" he said, smiling at her, and taking a seat.

"Why?"

"Well I didn't wanna be all by my lonesome since my mates scampered off to the X-men," he said, propping his feet up on the table, his chair leaning back on it's back two legs.

"Feet off the table!" Wanda yelled, her spoon emitting a blue glow.

Pyro pouted. "Fine, fine, be that way." He removed his feet from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. "This isn't gonna be as fun as I hoped, is it?" he asked, looking at Pietro.

"Wanda's just a killjoy," Pietro said as he fixed his breakfast at rapid speed. "Ignore her."

"Shut it Pietro!" she snapped.

After breakfast (Pyro ate cereal straight from the box, he wasn't a fan of milk), the boys crowded the living room to watch TV and Wanda stalked off to her room. They laughed raucously at the ridiculous cartoon Freddie had picked for the morning, and upstairs, Wanda slammed her door.

Pyro fit in well with the boys of the Brotherhood. They were loud and sometimes immature, and Pyro was a lunatic. It all worked out very nicely.

Of course, on Saturday, Pyro was on the roof with his flamethrower, making 'beautiful' fire creatures, when he saw someone approaching the house.

An X-man!

The tiny one, that could walk through walls, to be more specific, he couldn't quite remember her name.

He shot two huge beams of flames down to flank the door, forming huge gargoyle like creatures, complete with fire-axes that blocked the door.

"What the-? Hey! Someone let me in!" she yelled.

The door opened. "Pyro knock it off!" he heard Lance yell.

Pyro sighed, making his creations join him on the roof, and allowing the young X-man entry into the Brotherhood house.

He sat on the roof for a little while longer, but it looked as if it might rain soon, so he made his way back inside to fix himself a bite to eat. Fred and Todd were in the living room watching more cartoons, Pietro was nowhere to be found and he assumed Lance had taken the tiny X-man to his room for the day. Wanda was sitting in the kitchen reading a book and absentmindedly eating a sandwich. She glared at him when he entered and then went back to reading. He fixed himself a sandwich (ham, tomatoes, with jalapeño peppers) and sat down beside her.

"Whatcha readin?"

"Go away."

"Interesting book title."

"Leave me alone."

"You're not very sociable."

"Go _away, _Pyro."

"It's John, anyway. I'm not in my uniform."

"That's a dull name."

"Well you American blokes can't pronounce my real name, so I'm just makin' it easy."

She shrugged and continued reading, finishing her sandwich after a couple more bites, and scowling at the noise Toad and Freddie were making.

"Could you two be quiet?" she yelled.

"Anything for you Poopkins," Toad yelled back.

"Don't call me that, Toad!"

"Seems Toad has a bit of a crush on ya, Sheila," Pyro noted.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Pyro studied Wanda for a minute, with a grin. She was pretty in that scary, unstable, mean kind of way. And feisty. He liked feisty. He may just have to give Toad some competition…

The moment this thought occurred to him, Pietro zipped into the room.

"Why're you staring at my sister, huh?" he asked sharply.

"I'm not staring," he said, looking down at his half-eaten sandwich.

Pietro glared.

"Do you blokes just hang 'round here all day?" Pyro asked him. "Don't you have girlfriends or a jobs or somethin?"

"None of them do. Except Lance, on the first part. They claim they don't need jobs because they just mooch off of Mystique," Wanda said. "And she made them go back to school, so they can use not having time for a job as an excuse too."

"Made you?"

"Well, that mutant hatin' principal left to run for mayor, and Mystique got her job back," Toad said from the kitchen. "And she un-expelled us," he added. "And told us she wouldn't pay for our meals if we didn't come to school. Except snookums, she doesn't have to go."

"You don't go to school?" John asked, looking at Wanda.

She shook her head.

"Well at least I won't be all alone during the week."

Wanda really wished she went to school now.

"Why don't you go to school?" she asked him, scowling.

"I'm too old for school, Sheila."

"Don't call me that."

"How old _are _you?" Pietro interrupted.

"Almost twenty if I recall correctly."

"Not quite old enough to buy us booze," Toad said sadly, hopping into the room.

"I can just zip in and steal it, like I did last time," Pietro said, looking offended.

"It's not good to use the same approach twice, yo."

"True," Freddie agreed, not leaving the living room.

Pyro could only laugh. It seems that in a time of peace, the only thing the Brotherhood got up to was petty mischief. But that was better than being a perpetual do-gooder like the X-men. Rescuing kittens from trees and the like. Definitely not his style.

Pietro ran out of the room and up the stairs. "Lance! Are you still alive in there? Stop sucking face and get lunch!" he yelled.

The floor started to shake uncontrollably.

"Fine! I'll leave you alone!" Pietro ran back into the kitchen. "He hates it when I do that."

"Obviously," Wanda muttered. "You're a tactless idiot."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think she means that interrupting more _intimate _activities is rude and immature, mate," Pyro said. "I don't know though, it's always been fun to me."

"I guess it's a guy thing," Pietro said.

"It must be an idiot thing," Wanda corrected.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter somehow spawned into five pages of continuous Pyro-tastic goodness.

* * *

Pyro's Ultimate Mission

Chapter 2: A Very Normal Day

* * *

It was Monday morning, and Pyro woke up as he heard Lance's jeep pull out of the driveway. He assumed Wanda was still asleep, thus he was alone and free to do as he pleased. He got out of bed, stretching, and headed down to the kitchen. It occurred to him to put on some pants but he didn't, and started making himself a piece of toast instead. It ended up slightly burnt and covered in honey, and he pulled himself up to sit on the counter.

He was about halfway through it when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He had totally forgotten about his state of undress, so it didn't seem like a big deal that Wanda (or some kind of burglar if it wasn't Wanda) was coming to the kitchen.

"Pyro!" she shrieked, freezing in the doorway, the blue glow covering her hand. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Mornin'!" He figured 'I'm going to kill you' was Wanda's way of saying 'hello'.

She sputtered incoherently for a minute before blasting Pyro, but he ducked out of the way.

"Calm down, Sheila, what's the ma-" He paused. "Oh. Right." He flicked open his lighter and made himself a sort of skirt out of flames. It was very fashionable.

"How does that not burn you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, my own flames can't burn me," he said with a cackle as he left the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a pair of pants on.

"Thank god," she muttered. "You put pants on."

"Well I wouldn't wanna make you uncomfortable, now would I?"

"You have no shame, do you?"

"Absolutely not, Sheila. Never have, never will."

"Disgusting," she muttered, but she still looked a little flustered as she busied herself with making something to eat.

"Don't appreciate the naked male form?"

"Not _your _naked male form, no," she retorted.

He frowned. "That's too bad. We're going to see quite a lot of each other on days like these, you may as well get used to it."

"The only way I'm going to be 'getting used to you' is with your clothes on, Pyro. If you decide to go any other way, I'll be forced to kill you. But I don't think anyone will really mind."

"That's a horrible thing to say," he said, laughing hysterically.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"I like your attitude," he said, giving her a thumbs up. "So what shall we get up to today?"

"_We _are not doing anything. _You _are going to leave me alone."

He rolled his eyes and walked back up to his room, and found a shirt and shoes to wear, and walked down the stairs as he pulled on the shirt, and he very nearly slipped on a stray shoe, but caught himself at the last second.

"Well I'm going off for a ride, wanna come with?"

"No."

"Your choice," he said with a shrug as he walked out of the house. The only real appreciation he had for Magneto was that he bought them all motorcycles, and didn't take them back when they all left. So John decided as he put on his helmet (safety first, after all) to head over to the Xavier Institute and give his old partners a visit, they surely wouldn't be in _school_.

The trip was relatively short (or maybe he was just driving really fast, he could never tell), and he parked outside the gate, which opened as he approached. Maybe he had been expected? About halfway up the path to the house, he saw whom he happened to be seeking, they were sitting in the grass, off to one side, playing a game of cards.

"John! Join us," Piotr said, spotting him first.

"You know I don't play cards," he said, plopping down beside them. "How've you blokes been then? Missed me?"

"Of course. Though we were worried that we would miss the constant threat of destruction, but that is apparently always present within the Institute," Piotr joked quietly.

"At least we're never bored, _ami," _Remy said as he reshuffled the cards. "How's them Brotherhood boys treating you?" he asked, turning to Pyro.

"I get on well there. The women of the house don't like me though."

"Mystique and Magneto's daughter, right?" the red-eyed Cajun inquired.

"Yeah. Mystique threatened me with death if I messed up her house, like the others don't cause any kind of trouble." He laughed. "But I'm used to that."

"Well you were the main source of destruction back at headquarters," the larger man said.

"True. But you didn't have to bust down the wall that one time."

"You were screaming."

"That was Sabretooth, I'm telling you. I do _not _scream like a woman."

"It _was _you, if I remember correctly. Why would Sabretooth be screaming if he was about to rip your into small pieces?"

"His fur was singed, I don't know. I wasn't screaming."

"It's alright, we won't tell anybody you scream like a little girl," Remy assured him, chuckling.

"Who screams like a little girl?" a gruff voice from behind them asked.

"St. John," Piotr and Remy said instantly.

"What are you doing here exactly, bub?" Wolverine said, poking Pyro in the back of the head with his boot.

"Visiting."

"Gimme your lighter," he said, sniffing the air and detecting the distinct scent of lighter fluid on John's jeans.

"Do you do this to everyone who visits?" Pyro asked irritably.

"Only the pyrokinetics. Which is just you, but if another one shows up, we'll confiscate his Zippo too. Now give it to me or I'll take it myself."

Pyro handed Wolverine two Zippos, not really fancying the idea of being disemboweled. "You'd best give them back before I leave," he grumbled.

"It's not like you don't have six more at home."

Pyro sulked as Wolverine left the scene and Gambit put away his cards.

"Don't you worry, Pyro, Wolverine is a man of his word, you'll get your toys back." Gambit said patting him on the shoulder. "Let's go on inside, then."

"Fine."

"Stop pouting," Gambit told him lightly.

"I'm not pouting."

"Yes, you are."

"Is it always like this?" he asked as they walked in. The mansion was spotlessly clean, there were a few people milling around, mostly adults in random rooms.

"Indeed."

"Pyro!" someone shouted. He ignored it (he was a 'bad guy' by most definitions, of course the good guys would panic at his appearance) until he was hanging upside down in midair.

"Jean," Piotr said. "Let him down."

"What's he doing here?" she asked, her hand out, keeping Pyro suspended in midair. "No one told us he was coming," she added. Scott had appeared behind her.

"'M visitin'," he said, having trouble formulating the words due to the blood rushing to his head. "Gambit and Colossus," he finished.

He was let down, and fell rather ungracefully onto the carpet. "Thanks for that," he muttered into the carpet, before getting up. "First the animal takes my babies and now I get intimate with the carpet. What a day."

"Sorry about that," Scott said as he and Jean walked by and Piotr pulled John off the ground by the scruff of his neck. "She's still not quite used to seeing Gambit and Colossus around. If they're lurking around or sneak up on her, she freaks out."

"I don't blame her, they're pretty scary lookin," Pyro agreed, dusting himself off. Gambit hit him across the head with his staff. "Ow…"

"Are you staying for lunch?" Jean asked, still looking wary.

"May as well, the only company at the Brotherhood place is the witchy Sheila and all she's good for is beating me to a pulp."

"She doesn't like you very much, hmm?" Remy asked, shuffling his deck, leaning against the wall.

"Not a bit, not a bit."

"Which is bad, because she's the one you should be worried about," Scott joked from around the corner.

"Eavesdropping is rude!" They heard Jean say to Scott, and more footsteps as the pair actually left the scene.

They all had a laugh at Scott's expense, but fell silent when the Professor rolled up, flanked (in a very scary body guard-ish sort of way) by Storm and Wolverine.

"You're not going to hang me upside down and scream at me are you?" Pyro asked the professor.

He chuckled. "No, I've known you were here since you arrived. That's why I sent Logan out to see what you were up to. Jean just wasn't paying attention at the time."

"Oh."

They disappeared around the corner as well.

"Why are we standing in the hall?" Piotr asked vaguely.

The other two just shrugged, and none of them moved.

Somewhere down the hall someone yelled about making lunch.

The door across from them swung open and Rogue stalked out in orange and green pajamas.

"What're ya doin' Swamp Rat?" she asked, her Southern drawl overridden by a very congested nose. "Waitin' for me to wake up?"

"Indeed, cherie, are you going down to lunch?" he asked.

"Not with you! And what's he doin' here?" She turned on Pyro with a glare.

"I'm just visiting! I had nothing to do with him!" he added, pointing at Gambit.

"We're sorry, Rogue," Piotr said, grabbing the back of Remy's jacket and the sleeve of John's t-shirt and pulling them away from the angry teenager. "You shouldn't harass her so," he reprimanded Remy. "She'd like you more if you didn't, I think."

"I think you're right!" Rogue agreed as she walked past them.

"Mon chere-"

"Save it, swamp rat, I need a full stomach to handle ya," she told him, cradling her box of tissues as she scowled and walked away.

"She likes me," Remy said.

Piotr and John just shook their heads in amusement, or exasperation. Or both. Probably both. After much exasperated-amused headshaking, they were in the kitchen, and Jean handed a huge plate of sandwiches and a bag of chips to Piotr.

"Is that just for you, Petey?" Pyro asked.

"It's for all of us. My name is not Petey."

"I know what your name is. But Petey is better."

"No it's not."

Gambit grabbed drinks and Pyro grabbed a sandwich. It wasn't the sandwiches he had made at the Acolyte base or the Brotherhood house, but it would do. Being hung upside down and robbed and yelled at and seen naked took a lot out of a guy.

They finished their plate and the entire bag of chips (Pyro wondered how the Institute afforded to feed the massive number of people that lived in the house, especially since Colossus had joined their ranks), and it occurred to him that Wolverine was staring at him.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said, flicking a large crumb at Wolverine. "I woulda done something already if there was something to be done," he assured him.

Wolverine growled.

"Logan, just leave him be."

"I don't trust him Charles. He's got a manic look in his eye."

"He always looks like that," Gambit reassured Logan. "Even when he sleeps."

"Ya can't see his eyes if he's asleep," Rogue contradicted.

"Maybe I sleep with my eyes open, Sheila."

"That's creepy," she replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "Shouldn't ya be gettin home, Pyro? I'm sure Wanda misses ya." She chuckled.

"She doesn't miss me. She threatened to kill me three times last night and twice over breakfast!" he said cheerfully.

"That's a real good start," Rogue said, her laughter turning into a violent sneeze.

"I thought so too," Pyro said. "She threatens to kill Pietro every hour on the hour, I think it's just habit by now."

"At least she's consistent," Wolverine snorted. "But if it were me, I wouldn't waste my time talking about it."

"Well I don't think Mystique would appreciate coming home to a mass murder scene, so I think Wanda is just reduced to intimidation techniques."

"Mystique lives there again?" Rogue asked, looking unnerved.

"She sleeps there during the week and pays the bills, I wouldn't call it 'living'."

"Oh," Rogue said, frowning.

Pyro suddenly remembered that Mystique was Rogue's dear mother. Maybe not dear, but all the same.

After lunch, Pyro decided to head home.

"Feel free to come by my place if you're ever in the neighborhood," he said to Gambit and Colossus as he ran for the gates, having stolen his Zippos from Wolverine and been caught, he was now being chased down. The gates shut behind him, trapping Wolverine in and him safely out of the crazed mutant's reach. He stuck his tongue out at the snarling man and turned on his bike.

When he arrived home, Wanda was lying on the couch reading again.

"Where have you been?" she asked dully.

"I was visitin' Gambit and Colossus," he said. "Did you miss me?"

"Not a bit. But you shouldn't leave for the entire day. The door-to-door salesmen only want to talk to people over eighteen."

"You just hex them don't you?"

"Basically," she said, shifting her body and turning a page. "So whenever they see me at the door they run screaming."

"Whatta they try and sell?"

"Crap."

"Come often?"

"A couple times a week. Why?"

Pyro grinned. "We can make that fun, eh, Sheila?"

"My name isn't Sheila, Pyro."

"Well my name isn't actually Pyro either."

"If I call you John, you'll stop calling me Sheila?"

"Somethin' like that."

"Fine."

"Alright Sh- Wanda, what do you do when you're here all by your lonesome?"

"Read. Watch TV shows that I actually like. Enjoy the few _peaceful _hours that I'm not being hit on by Toad."

"That's a good routine," he said. "But don't you ever want a little excitement?"

"I get enough excitement when that pack of fools is home, why do I need more?"

He shrugged. "That's not the kind of excitement I was thinking, but if that's what keeps you happy." She was weird, weird, weird, weird and he definitely didn't understand her. He could try though, and he wasn't known for giving up easily. "Don't you do normal girl things? Go shopping, buy heaps of impractical things, have an obsession with shoes? Cry at romance movies?"

"No. No. No. No."

"Well that's good."

"Why is that good? It's not 'normal girl things'."

"Who wants to be normal? You'd be boring. Easier to talk to, yes. Less likely to kill me, yes. But nowhere near as interesting. And if you were 'normal'." He made quotations in the air with his fingers. "You probably wouldn't command the intimidation and respect you do now, being Wanda."

"Being Wanda?"

"As opposed to normal."

"Well, you're not normal either."

"Of course I'm not. I'm a lunatic."

Wanda scoffed. "At least you can admit your faults."

"That's not a fault, mate. If I weren't crazy I wouldn't be talkin' to you."

"Which wouldn't be so horrible."

He rolled his eyes. "You know if I spent an entire day here not acknowledging your existence you'd get annoyed and try and force me to talk to you by the time the rest of the crew got in."

"You'd put money on that?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"How much do you have in your wallet then?" she asked.

He fished around his jeans before pulling it out and opening. "My license. Ten dollars, a ball of lint, a receipt of some kind and a…when did I get this?" he asked himself pulling out a shiny square. "Condom?"

"We're not betting an old condom! Not that you need it anyway." She sneered and he put the condom back in his wallet. "Ten dollars you can't go one day without acknowledging my existence," she said.

"Fine. Ten dollars that I _can_. I'll also wager my favorite Zippo that it'll make you absolutely crazy."

They shook hands and the door burst open.

"We're home! What's there to eat?" Fred asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey guess what guys?" Pietro said, rushing in to share obviously important news with Wanda and John.

"I can't imagine what it could be," John said dryly.

"Mystique is going to be gone the entire weekend this weekend. Not coming back until Sunday night."

"…Woohoo?"

"We can have a party!"

High school kids and their parties. Wanda stood up from the couch.

"A million times no!" she yelled. "We can't pack people in here! We don't have food to go around or money to waste, and if Mystique comes back to her house destroyed we'll all be on the streets!"

"I've got it all planned out, sis. Mystique is going to leave money for Friday-through-Sunday meals," he said, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder. "We'll buy enough food to feed a party, and whatever's leftover will feed us, with the exception of Freddie of course, but I'm sure we'll have money left over." Freddie yelled in protest in the other room. "And since I'm the fastest, I can clean up the house to a reasonable amount, any other damages can be pawned off on Pyro."

"Why would you blame him?" Wanda asked, narrowing her eyes. "He's not the one suggesting a party! If _you _took the blame no one would get in trouble!"

"But as Pyro is a crazy person-"

"Mystique would assume it was me, and in order for anyone to correct her assumption they'd have to incriminate themselves, resulting in even more anger from a woman who should never, ever be pissed off." Pyro grabbed the remote before Toad could. "Which is fine because a party is an ace idea."

"How can you agree with them?" she asked him. "When they're just going to shrug anything bad off on you?"

"…We just had this conversation," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Really."

"I'll just stay up in my room all weekend I suppose," Wanda said, smacking her hand to her forehead.

"You have to participate in the festivities, Sheila!"

"No, I don't, _Pyro," _she snapped. "It's a bad idea Pietro, don't do it," she added to her brother, stomping up the stairs.

"We were actually friends for about five minutes there," Pyro said, utterly serious.


	3. Chapter 3

Yay chapter three. There's a party next chapter, woohoo!

* * *

Pyro's Ultimate Mission

Chapter 3: The Bet

* * *

Pyro woke up a little later the next morning, but assumed no one was awake. He remembered the deal he had struck with Wanda and didn't bother putting on his pants as he headed downstairs to make breakfast. He was fixing toast when Wanda entered the kitchen.

"Put some damn pants on Pyro!" she yelped, covering her eyes.

Pyro retrieved his toast and left the kitchen. He ate it sitting cross-legged on his bed, and then got dressed for the day. Later on yesterday, he had agreed not to leave the general vicinity of the house because it would ruin the point of the bet.

After finding nothing entertaining in his bedroom, he hopped, skipped and jumped back down the stairs, sat down on the living room floor and turned on the TV.

Wanda was lying on the couch, reading again. She made a noise of protest when the TV came to life. "Turn that off," she said, but she garnered no response.

He watched cartoons, channel surfed and watched a few moments of morning talk shows before resuming channel surfing.

"Would you quit that?" she asked.

He ignored her and kept it up, settling on a weird Japanese-style cartoon where the words didn't match the movements of the characters' mouths. Wanda continued to read, silently wondering how much longer he could stand not talking.

Of course, this didn't last long, as Pyro jumped up and grabbed the phone and dialed.

It rang a few times before someone picked up. "Xavier Institute, Logan speaking," the gruff voice on the other end said.

"Hey Wolfy, is Remy or Piotr around?"

"Gumbo took Rogue to school and hasn't come back, and Piotr is in the Danger Room with Scott and Jean."

"Well just tell Remy to call St. John at the Brotherhood when he comes back if you would, Wolfy?"

"Don't call me Wolfy, firefly!" Wolverine growled.

"Thank you for delivering the message then!" he said cheerfully, hanging up the phone. He returned to the living room to find that the TV was off. He didn't turn it back on, but instead departed to his room.

When he shut the door behind him, he sighed heavily. This was way too hard! He couldn't respond to anything, he couldn't stand not talking to someone. But he had to win this bet, because he's honor was at stake!

Wait. He didn't have any honor!

But there was still no way he was going to lose this. Not to a girl.

He could handle it. It was only one day, after all. He had gone plenty of days not talking at the Acolyte base.

Though that was mostly because Remy had super-glued his lips together.

Maybe he could do that for the day…

"Nah, that'd be cheating," he muttered to himself.

He didn't really know when he decided he cared about cheating, but today wasn't the day for cheating.

He heard Wanda go up the stairs and shut her bedroom door, and he took that as a good opportunity to go back downstairs and watch TV. He stretched out across the length of the sofa, he laid the remote on his stomach and watched some random talk show for about half an hour.

They had gotten to the part where the wife revealed to her husband that she was having an affair with his sister when Wanda came back downstairs and fixed herself some lunch. She grabbed the remote off of John's stomach, but didn't change the channel.

"Move, John," she commanded.

He didn't.

She sighed, and sat down on John's stomach, as he stubbornly refused to move and she stubbornly refused to sit anywhere else.

He didn't even flinch or shift.

Wanda thought he was way too good at ignoring her, and frowned. It wasn't that bothersome, really. She liked the peace and quiet, she just _hated _being ignored. They were like that for a long time, Wanda crushing John's internal organs and channel surfing, and John lying there, practically catatonic. Then the others got home from school.

"What the hell!" Pietro exclaimed.

John grinned and leapt off the couch, sending Wanda flying to the floor.

"How are you blokes today?" he asked.

Todd hopped over to Wanda. "Are you alright Sweetlumps? Do you need help?" he asked as Wanda got to her feet.

"Go away, Toad," she snapped. "What was _that _for Pyro?" she snapped.

Pyro ignored her and continued making small talk with Pietro and Lance. Pietro was telling him exactly who he had invited to the party, and what kind of things they'd need to make it totally 'awesome'.

Wanda snarled and stomped up to her room.

"Why are you ignoring her?" Lance asked, watching Wanda's retreating back.

The door slammed in the distance.

"Bet," John said simply, grinning. "I'm winning, I think."

They all had a laugh.

The phone rang, Lance went to answer it but John beat him to it, hoping it was Remy.

"Hello?"

"You called?"

"Well hello, Remy, how are you today?"

"Fine. Why did you call, may I ask? You hate using the phone."

This was true. "Well I had no one to talk to today, since I've got a bet going with the Sheila that I can ignore her for a whole day."

"'M sure she likes that," Remy said, chuckling.

"She seems to be mad about it."

More laughter from the other line.

"Wolfman said you took Rogue to school today, what took ya so long to get home?"

"Stopped to get some breakfast."

"You made Rogue late didn't you?"

"You know me too well."

John laughed. "Well I except Lance is waiting for a phone call himself, so I'll be seein' ya."

"I expect you well, _mon ami," _Remy agreed.

"Bye then." John hung up and walked back to the living room, where Todd and Fred were watching more cartoons. He joined them, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

The rest of the day went nicely, Wanda came out of her room every so often to get food or try and harass John, who remained impervious to her comments. Of course, after Toad had made an inappropriate comment and been appropriately flung into a wall for it, Wanda didn't come back downstairs for the rest of the night.

"What're you up to?" Lance asked, sitting in the armchair with his guitar in his lap. Everyone else had gone to bed, except Pietro, who was on the phone with some girl.

"Whaddya mean?"

"It's like you're trying to impress Wanda."

"I'm trying to win her heart," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"She doesn't have a heart."

"That's why I like her. Besides, she can have mine. I don't need it."

"She'd probably just eat it," Lance said, laughing a little.

"I've been bored out of my skull all day," John said, changing subjects. "It's hard to pretend someone doesn't exist when they use you as a chair for two hours."

"I can imagine that it would be."

"She's not that bad, really," Pyro said. "A little violent, yeah. But not bad."

"Well, your only romantic rival is Toad, I'd say you've got a shot. Maybe. If you're really, really lucky."

They both had a laugh.

Unfortunately for them, Wanda was listening at the stairs.

She decided not to let them know she was there, and quietly climbed the stairs back to her room.

--

The next morning, Wanda was awoken by an impatient series of knocks on her bedroom door. She opened it, ready to hex whoever (she had a theory about who it was) was waking her up at this god forsaken hour.

"Toast?" John asked.

She took the toast, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I believe you owe me ten dollars."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, looking around her bedroom for some money. She finally found it and turned back to John, shoving it in his hands. "Now leave me alone."

He finished his piece of toast (which was covered in an odd assortment of toppings) and rummaged around in his pocket. He dropped something small into Wanda's hand.

"It didn't make me crazy that you ignored me all day," she said, turning the little Zippo lighter over in her hands. That had been the wager hadn't it?

"I want you to have it anyway," he said with a shrug, walking away from her. "It's not as if I don't have six more."

She shut her bedroom door and laid the lighter down on a bedside table decorated with singe marks and a few different colored candles.

* * *


End file.
